


I Want to Hold Your Hand

by CC_Nix



Series: Inutile de Discuter [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: (so like late 60’s to mid 70’s), Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Personas (Persona Series), Alternate Universe - No Powers, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Oneshot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, Tags May Change, This is only the beginning... hehe, psychedelic era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Nix/pseuds/CC_Nix
Summary: Akira Kurusu is a novelist under the alias,Ren Amamiya,  who befriends a detective to pass the time.As their time with each other increase, Akira begins to unravel hidden truths behind Goro Akechi, as well come to the realization that he has fallen for a dangerous man.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Inutile de Discuter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013994
Kudos: 22





	I Want to Hold Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Story contains drug usage and sexual themes.
> 
> Ahem... This is only the beginning  
> And I’ll be trying challenging to use the song titles from those eras to base my chapter names.
> 
> P.S... I apologize for lack of explicit descriptions. Maybe in the future when I’m more comfortable I can release more explicit scenes.

At exactly 6:15 AM a small rock would hit the attic’s window. And at 6:16 AM another rock would follow the former. 

“Aghhh… geez I hear ya, I hear ya already!” Akira groaned, frustratedly ruffling his nested hair. Slipping out the thick winter bed sheets, he grabs the nearest abandoned garment to pull over his naked body. There was no use dressing up knowing that in the next few minutes he’d be shedding any and all layers of clothing.

He meditates whether the glasses are necessary; however, it was a natural habit that he chooses to grab them and put them on without much debate. As he makes his way down the creaking stairs he slips on a heavy black layered yukata to keep his body warm.

Halfway to the door he hears banging. One, two, and by the third knock Akira swings the door open before they get a chance to knock for a fourth time. He smiles at a handsome man standing irritatedly out in the cold. 

Black gloves dig into a thick sanded beige coat while one hand barely holds onto a leather case in. Akira can see how small huffs escape from his tightly wrapped checkered scarf, _How cute_ , he thinks letting the man standing outside pass inside.

The man doesn’t give him a chance to greet him properly. The arms jumping to entangle themselves around Akira—they are rushed and highly needy—with the expensive leather case carelessly discarded to the side.

And Akira reciprocates, furthermore, he allows himself to be pushed against the front of the bar. When he grabs the man’s face, adding control to the hungry kisses, the brunette finally slows down allowing Akira to take charge. 

He flutters his lashes shut when a thumb rubs the young man’s bottom lip. Then he opens his mouth slightly giving room for Akira to dictate the kiss. 

It starts with a light lick of the upper lip. The young man replies with a desperate bite for Akira’s lips. They stare at each other in the dark for a moment, soon, Akira continues to work his tongue onto the teeth. Quickly gliding his tongue across the front teeth, going as far as to scrape lightly the roof of the mouth. Together, it strikes an electrifying spark, undoing the man on the spot. Unable to hold back, he presses for more.

Akira has to pull away for a bit when the man seemingly works his bare hands inside his high school gym uniform, cold fingers are centimeters from touching his semi-flaccid member.

“Already so desperate to get laid, detective Goro?” He chuckles tensely.

“Yeah… now fuck me... already,” Goro says breathlessly, as if he just finished running a marathon.

“No.”

Goro’s eyes widen, like one would when water is splashed onto their face for _no reason_. 

No reason… No. Reason?

He tears away, taking space into consideration, and Akira almost follows him.

Meanwhile Akira looks down, diverted to find his robe had been undone, he looks up and casually leans back onto the wooden bar, “Beg for it.”

“Excuse me?!” Goro jolts his head lightly then scoffs. “I’m not going to fucking beg you to fuck me Akira,” he whispers loudly, as if they were having a couple’s argument out in public. To be fair, it was still early in the morning, Goro was trying to be considerate about not waking up the neighbors—for now.

“Why not? You’re gone since December, not to mention that you don’t even ring in to let me know why. Then, out of nowhere you drop in on me expecting sex?” Akira can’t believe it, he was starting to sound like an upset housewife, like— _his—_ housewife.

Akira practically sees a vein pop. 

“Are you fucking shitting me?! We’re not even in fucking relationship,” he rambles as he places a hand on his hip, ruffling that side of the coat behind. For reference, the view was similar to a father giving his children a lecture when coming home from work, “I have a fucking career to balance out with college, which if you hadn’t fucking notice, takes up a lot of my time.”

Akira counts four in one sentence.

He doesn’t say anything despite wishing to say, ‘ _Oh look at me, I’m a rookie prince detective! I’m so busy appearing in talk shows!’_ But that would only add gas to the flames and he wasn’t trying to burn the place down. He smiles instead, entertained at Goro’s repeated excuses. It wasn’t that he set him off on purpose... except oh wait, he did. 

And he was glad he did so.

“You could have grabbed that first year...” he agitatedly attempts to recall the girl that helps out around the cafe, “Sumire! I know how she looks at you. You could have fucked her for a change of pace, huh? Nothing wrong with that, our thing is—casual—after all.”

Touche. He does remember telling Goro, ‘Let’s keep it casual,’ before sending him off into the night.

Goro glances to check on the other man, when their eyes meet he cracks a smile and they continue from where they left off. Piece by piece they rip off each other’s clothes (though would be more accurate to say Goro’s clothes) while also making their way to the second floor. 

Akira previously had the heater on, but upon reaching the attic he turned the knob to the highest setting; he mindlessly concluded that he might have to consequently buy another one after today. The heat from their bodies would have essentially been enough to keep each other warm, but Akira wanted the room to boil, he wanted to see them melt into each other _for a fucking change of pace._

He was glad to have some light from outside. It gave him the pleasure to admire Goro’s naked body, to adore how his chest hitched breathlessly, and to marvel at how his fingers worked his body open. Goro laying on his back gave for the absolute best view in Akira’s life—because it was different and it was thrilling to have something other than a woman underneath you: a taboo per say. 

But he was sure that others would have paid to see him sprawled like so if only their minds weren’t as close minded.

“H-hurry already..!” The man moans from underneath.

Akira looked at the time: 6:30AM 

Exactly an hour and thirty minutes before the old man, Sojiro, came back to open the cafe. Akira smiles mischievously, tongue hanging, ready to go down on his ‘wife’.

  
  


**~*~**

They finished in less than ten minutes.

Unsatisfied, Goro crawls off the bed, taking a thin bed sheet with him, and glances through Akira’s shelf brimming with books. Something catches his eyes amidst the rest of the monochromatic colored books. It's a red covered book with golden embroidered characters with traditional needle stitching: a special edition.

“Prodigal Sons… by… Ren Amamiya?” He turns his head to interrogate Akira.

“Yeah, that one is mine. I published it last year actually... Both my first novel and bestseller.” He brags. 

But Akechi doesn’t give a single shit whether Akira was able to release a bestseller during high school. “Prodigal Sons like in the Bible? Since when have you been Christian?”

“Since never. I got the title back in middle school. There was this Christian girl who I used to converse and play Shogi with. Often she would ramble about verses in the Bible. That’s how I got it, eventually I picked up the Bible for myself, though, I wouldn’t call myself a believer.”

“I see…” Goro stares at the name Ren Amamiya, “Did you know… that the lotus represents purity and cleansing in buddhism?”

“Hmm?”

“Ren is spelled with the same kanji as lotus. How ironic for such dark and untaming contents within the book,” he says absentmindedly while skimming through the pages of the novel.

Akira, laying on his side with a prompted up arm holding his head up, stares at Goro. 

“Do you really believe yourself to be pure?” 

He doesn’t wait for Akira to answer, nor does Akira expect time to answer. Like a child, he moves on to the next thing that grabs his attention. Plopping himself down he reviews over assemblages of rock n’ roll disks Akira had acquired over time. 

Akira reaches over his nightstand and pulls out a rolled up cigarette, placing it on between his lips when he lights it up.

Goro shifts his fingers through the collection of albums, he pulls one out and begins to play it on a small black record player. It was a fairly recent hit, [ _Gimme Shelter_](https://open.spotify.com/track/6H3kDe7CGoWYBabAeVWGiD?si=SkOrH7QETm2ZTpMyf5gF_w) by The Rolling Stones, an eyebrow raises then he turns the volume up. If the neighbors weren’t woken up by the loud bed creaks and Goro’s incomprehensible moaning, they’d surely be disturb now. Actually, it was quite minimal in contrast to the last two, perhaps if Sojiro was downstairs he’d be complaining.

He takes a hit of the cigarette, holding it in, and then offers it to Goro who takes it—no questions asked. Finally, Akira exhales as the other man inhales, crimson eyes widening in surprise.

“This isn’t tobacco…” he exhales, bringing a hand towards his mouth, covering it like a shocked Japanese housewife when she hears the latest gossip around town.

“Bingo, baby. Goro, honey, I introduce you to _Mary Jane_ ,” the last part said in a harsh English accent.

His eyes gleam in amusement. Then out of nowhere he cracks a childish laugh throwing his head back, he smoothly falls back letting his body weight dictate his current position. “From where?”

Akira creeps over to Goro, hovering over the man taking back his blunt, “Originally grown in the mystic lands of Mexico,” he kisses up Goro’s neck, “although it’s pretty popular in America, California exports it here, we should travel over there one day.” He whispers into Goro’s ear.

“Mmm…” It wasn’t the answer he was looking for, he knows where it’s grown and what ports deliver it. He wanted to know how Akira acquired it, but his mind was too slow to debate it. 

Goro bats his eyelashes slower than normal, taking Akira’s endearing caresses without a care. He turns his face to catch the next kiss on his lips. They’re long and tender. Accompanied with slow grinds from the young man above. 

_Does he think we could go for another round?_ Despite casting his doubt on Akira, Goro wraps his legs around the torso of the man above him. 

“What the—? Akira! Come pick your mess up!” Yells an old raspy voice from downstairs. 

Goro unwraps his legs and lays still.

“Crap…” Akira looks at time, “why is he here earlier than expected?” He says, dropping his head against the floor just beside Goro’s.

The other man snactches the blunt, taking one more hit just before putting it out against the old wooden planks. Annoyed, he violently pushes Akira off him. The change in mood was as quick as flipping a light switch.

“Don’t let them catch you with this crap,” he exhales the smoke simultaneously when he gets up, “they also say it can cause erectile dysfunction.”

“Who’s _they_?” 

“Wakaba says so. Therefore, unless you don’t want me to put it up your ass I’d recommend you to keep it at a minimum.”

Akira drops his mouth open before chuckling, “Well, if Wakaba says so then it must be true.” It was supposed to be a sarcastic remark. 

But of course, that was a just myth floating at the time. Not to mention it undermined Goro’s hypocrisy. There were numerous times he would sneak out to smoke one himself, alway near a vent, it didn't matter if he had to stand on top of a toilet seat to reach one. And he would almost—always—smoked one when he revived a one-time blowjob from a sex worker, secretly wishing it was Akira.

“Watch where you get these things as well,” he adds, “make sure you don’t get tied up with the Yakuza, they’re exceedingly growing in numbers which is starting to add more workload onto my plate.”

“Yakuza, eh..?” He muses to himself. “I might have to fight them for your attention.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

By the time Akira looks up, Goro has buttoned up his shirt and is midway pulling his underwear back on, then he heads downstairs to leave. 

“Sorry boss, these are all mine,” he hears from downstairs followed up by Sojiro commenting about ‘having no shame’. Then, Akira hears the door’s bell ring. He rises from the floor and watches the man disappear from his window. _Until next time, cowboy_ , he thinks. 

Akira clicks his tongue at the fact of how easily he is influenced by Western media; however, the fact doesn’t distract from the truth long enough: for some reason it always aches to see Goro go.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to beat me over it on twitter:  
> [ @cocobutternix ](https://twitter.com/cocobutternix)
> 
> P.S.S. I’m not a history buff... but I try my hardest
> 
> Songs Referenced:
> 
> [ I Want to Hold your Hand ](https://open.spotify.com/track/4pbG9SUmWIvsROVLF0zF9s?si=-iNxTB3NS0ikQLS2AHmQmQ) by The Beatles  
> [ Gimme Shelter ](https://open.spotify.com/track/6H3kDe7CGoWYBabAeVWGiD?si=SkOrH7QETm2ZTpMyf5gF_w) by The Rolling Stones


End file.
